


There Will Be No Surrender

by carnivaldreams



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnivaldreams/pseuds/carnivaldreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SHIELD was in pieces, agents had scattered or were waiting questioning before Congress, so the last thing Skye had expected was for Maria Hill to sit down next to her in the café near the motel the team had been hiding in. It was a suicide mission, what was being asked of her. She wanted to tell them they were crazy, but then there was a thought at the back of her mind that she tried desperately to ignore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Skye…”_ It was a ghost of a whisper, the plea of a dying man. His eyes fading out as he lay in front of her, pain and despair, and despite all she knew, she couldn’t stop the ache from deep within, the plea to save him, the code that would save him rolling off her tongue before she could even hesitate and think about what she was doing.

It haunted her, every time she tried closing her eyes and falling into the relief of slumber in the small, anonymous, low grade motel that the team had holed themselves up in, falling off the grid. Sleep, since she had arrived, had been elusive.

After jolting back awake for the third night, thirty minutes after she had last checked the time on the glowing alarm clock between the two beds in the room, her arm flinging out to find contact with something that had never really been there to begin with, she had snuck out of the room, slipping on a hoodie to protect from the night chill, careful not to wake a peacefully sleeping Jemma. Was it okay to mourn something that had never really existed to begin with? _Had it existed?_ This was a conversation she would have preferred to have over a pint of ice cream, and cheap alcohol, but that was a luxury no one could really afford at the moment. She briefly considered the alternative of a chocolate bar, but the vending machine had lost any appeal after only a day and a half. Ward had tried to tell her that his feelings for her had been real, that despite all his actions and Nazi alliances he had really cared for her. She was skeptical. Naturally. Her fingers went to the scar on her stomach where Hydra bullets had pierced her courtesy Ian Quinn. She had to be skeptical.

Squirming, Skye tried to find a comfortable position on the plastic pool chair, pulling her hoodie closer and curling her legs up underneath her. It was a pointless exercise, these chairs had never been comfortable to begin with, and she ended up stretching her legs out right, flexing her feet before giving in and standing back up, it was at least warmer in her room. She really needed to get some sleep. And soon.

 

Internet cafés had always held a special appeal to Skye; Wi-Fi for the price of a coffee, a crowded place that could make it harder for someone to pinpoint who she was when trying to remain anonymous. She found an empty computer towards the back of the building where she could keep an eye on the semi-crowded room. Taking a sip of the deliciously hot, heavily caffeinated drink she started the almost-outdated Internet connection, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she searched for any new information on fallen agencies and rising regimes. It irked her, and Coulson, that they had to rely on outside sources for information about their agency.

She had been so caught up in her readings that she didn’t notice the shadow that fell across the bench next to her, until the shadow coughed and sat down next to her and she almost jumped straight out of her seat.

“I apologise,” Maria Hill had a half smile on her face. “I didn’t realize it would be so easy to startle you.”

“I…I was…I just…” Skye started stuttering before she fell back into silence. “Can I help you?” She asked after a couple of beats of silence. She had seen Maria Hill on the extensive news coverage of the fall of SHIELD, facing Congress hearings along with Natasha Romanoff, and other high level agents that had been left to face the damage. They were major names of interest; they had pissed off a lot of important people. Skye glanced around the café, trying to decide if she needed to run before a connection was made between the two of them.

“I’m alone,” Maria misinterpreted her furtive glances, still comforting her somewhat. “It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to lose their tail, but we don’t have long before they’re back.”

Skye nodded, too confused to say anything.

“Everything’s a mess at the moment, and before we can begin to even work our way out of this mess and rebuild we need to work out SHIELD from HYDRA. We need to know what they’re ultimate plan is in everything.”

“I don’t know…”

“You’re in a unique position here, Skye. You have a way into Hydra; you can get information on them that we can’t get. We need to know if they have a further agenda in this mess. We have a chance to stop them here.”

“I was barely level one,” Skye found her voice again. It was screaming at her that this was a crazy plan. “I’ve never gone undercover before. I’ve never been left alone in the field before.” This was an insane plan.

“You wanted to be an agent though, yes?” Maria clarified. “The best agents are the ones that can perform under pressure. We’ve all been in high stakes undercover positions before.” They could both hear the distant sounds of police sirens, and despite being on the edges of Los Angeles, where these sounds weren’t uncommon, they both tensed up.

“Ward is going to see straight through any act I try to put on,” No one needed to spell out the details of the plan for her. “The last time we talked we didn’t leave on best terms.”

“Or he’s going to be that blinded by any feelings he has that he’s not going to see your act. We’re not going to get many opportunities like this.” This was a suicide mission, Skye knew it. Knew that she should tell her to send in someone who knew what they were doing. They were clever agents; they could find a connection to get them a cover. “You have until tonight Skye,” Maria’s voice softened at the conflict that must have been clearly evident on the young agent’s face. “We’ll talk at the motel.”

Then Maria was gone before the sirens that could get any louder, leaving Skye on the verge of hyperventilating over the remains of her coffee.

“Don’t do it,” Skye had taken to pacing around the small motel room, leaving the café not long after, her attention long gone from the thought of sifting through news articles, her mind a hazy fuzz on what she was meant to do. “They can’t force you to take a mission like this. It’s dangerous.” Jemma sat cross legged on her bed, patiently listening to Skye’s rambling for the last forty five minutes.

There was a dark place of Skye’s mind that she hadn’t ventured in to yet, the thoughts that she had been careful to keep under tight lock and key, only venturing back there late at night when she was close to delusion from lack of sleep, when his eyes haunted the dark. If what he claimed was true, was it really that hard to go with him? Take some time to see if what he said _was_ true, to see if he was really as horrible as it seemed right now. She could get her hands on the information Hill wanted easy enough with access to a computer. This could be a winning situation for all right? She pushed the idea back again with disgust.

“You know Fitz and I are going to support you whatever you decide, right? No one is going to judge you for your decision.” Jemma touched her arm carefully, even though Skye still jumped. It was the second time someone had taken her by surprise today. She didn’t like that. “I’ll leave you alone for a while. We’re all outside when you’re ready.”

Skye paced a couple more times before collapsing down on the bed, rubbing her hands over her eyes; she was so tired.

 _“Skye…”_ She didn’t even realize she had been drifting off to sleep until she heard Ward’s plea, jerking her back to conscience with a start; this was getting to a point past ridiculous. “Skye?” Her eyes flew to the door, and she almost screamed before she realized that it _wasn’t_ Grant Ward’s voice; she stood up to open the door for Coulson.

“They’re almost here,” He informed her sympathetically. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

She could go either way. Try and take down a major evil organization, that’s what she had wanted when she had first joined Rising Tide what felt like another lifetime ago, or she could refuse, and go and try to lead a small and anonymous life somewhere, always looking over her shoulder for something to come and ruin it.

“I’ll do the mission,” There really hadn’t been a choice there. Her long term plans had never involved living her life on the run.

When Maria showed up, easily losing her tail again, really she didn’t even need to try anymore, Skye had already said her goodbyes with the group, her feet dangling over the edge of the pool as she enjoyed the last moments of peace with the only family she had known.

“Have you got everything?” Maria asked when Skye stood, looking around for a backpack, or something.

“It’s all still on the bus,” They’d all come to the motel with literally only the clothes they had on their backs.

“It’s not going to be that hard to get in. We’re going to get you away from here, so no one can trace you back, and then you just need to get a message to the bus’ communications.” They’d left the others poolside and Maria took her to a dark car parked by the motel entrance. She pointed in the back where an old laptop laid waiting for her. “It looks ancient, but it can do what you need it to do.” Skye nodded, too afraid that if she opened her mouth she would change her mind. She still thought this whole scheme was a suicide mission.

The forty five minute car ride was driven in a tense silence; the radio remaining untouched even as Skye itched to break the quiet; Maria’s phone ringing twice on her belt clip before being turned off without even looking at the caller ID. Finally they came to a small twenty four hour diner out of the city limits, just before they reached an expanse of nothingness.

“Good luck Skye,” Maria had a genuine smile, as she opened the glove box compartment to pull out a slip of paper. “Keep this safe. When you have what you need, contact us and we’ll get you out. But until then, you will be on your own.”

It took Skye a minute to be able to swallow, and then with a confidence she hadn’t realized she had until then she accepted it, and retrieved the computer. This was it, she was on her own.

Ordering a sandwich and coffee from the counter inside, she didn’t relish the thought of going back to the bland food on the plane; it only took her fifteen minutes to get the message sent out.

_Carmine’s Diner. Outside LA. Forgive me. S._

Would it work? He would have to be skeptical of her intentions after their last conversation; she had told him she was going to throw up while he had told her how he felt. What would she do if it didn’t work? She couldn’t call Maria back and tell her that she had failed before she had even started. What if Ward didn’t come? What if Deathlok was sent to just finish her off? They’d gotten what they wanted from her; she didn’t hold significant importance to them anymore. What if Garrett came? She shuddered at the thought, pulling her hoodie around her again to try and stop the chills racing up her arms.

This was it. She was alone. She had no back up. She couldn’t even carry a gun if she wanted to sell her story.

She had just finished the last bites of her sandwich, and was nursing what was left of her coffee when the door opened to the diner, the little bell over the door breaking through the quiet hum of the almost deserted place. The middle aged waitress looked up from the counter to greet the new customer, her lips parting slightly the words died in her mouth as she took him in. The scar that hadn’t healed yet over his cheek, the week old stubble that did absolutely nothing for the cold stare in his eyes as he surveyed the place, taking in possible exits, potential combatants. She couldn’t see the piece he had tucked in his back, concealed behind the jacket she was wearing, but he was definitely not there for their coffee and pie.

Skye bit into her bottom lip as she watched him walk towards her, stalk towards her, sliding into the opposite seat with ease, his cold stare not breaking for a second. His arms crossed across his chest, and she tried not to focus on the muscles bulging in his arms. The muscles had always distracted her, something that he knew. “Skye,” His lips curled into a smirk. “Your message was definitely a surprise.”

“I made a mistake,” Skye steeled her stomach. “I should have…I should have trusted you earlier. You told me you cared for me, and I was too upset about everything to think about that. I…I shouldn’t have left with Coulson.”

His eyes didn’t soften, he didn’t smile. His whole body language screamed dangerous killer. She needed to make this work.

“I’m tired Grant,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “I haven’t been able to sleep since I left; I keep hearing your voice every time I close my eyes.” Her eyes dropped to the last drops of coffee in her mug. She’d hate herself later for admitting him the truth, but for the moment she was desperate. “I want to come home.”

Ward’s arms uncrossed from across his chest, one hand coming to rest open on the table, an invitation for Skye to put her hand in it. As his hand closed over hers, his thumb rubbed a small circle onto the back of her hand. “C’mon,” he said quietly, pulling her up, and close to him.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Skye stared out the window, her attention unfocused and noticing nothing in particular, as Ward sped them east, away from the city and into the open country. Did Ward want to talk? Did either of them really want to start any unfinished conversations between the two of them in the small confines of the vehicle where they wouldn’t be able to put space between them? She turned her head towards him, but his attention remained on the road; one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear stick between them, her hand still tightly grasped in his. It hadn’t escaped her attention that he hadn’t let go of her hand yet; only releasing it earlier for the brief amount of time it had taken him to get into the car outside the diner.

“What did you tell the others?” Ward’s voice broke through the silence as Skye turned her head back towards the window, counting the cars that sped by them in the opposite direction. If he felt Skye flinch at the sudden sound he didn’t say anything.

“That I thought it’d be best if I went out on my own for a little while, that it would be safer if we split up for a while.”

“They believed you?” He took his attention off the road a brief second to glance over at her, doubting if the rest of the team would have believed her so easily.

Skye shrugged, trying to act nonchalance. “I’m here, and we’re not being followed. That’s what’s important.” His hand tightened over hers in a reassuring squeeze, and his thumb rubbed over the back of her hand again. “We won’t be too much longer.” He promised.

Skye lost track of time after that, the monotonous night scenery all blurring together, but before too long Ward was turning on to a private driveway, Skye noticing the change in scenery as they drove through a gate that had been left open for them. At the sight of the bus waiting for their turning on an expanse of land where it wouldn’t be spotted by any unsuspecting citizen driving by, she sat up straighter and couldn’t help the feeling of relief that settled over her. This had been her home, the first time she had really felt like she belonged; she would (hopefully) find all her things still in her bedroom waiting where she had left them before they had left in Providence.

Even though everything else had fallen around them like a house of cards, this was still standing, and that gave her a brief glimpse of hope.

 “I need to get us up in the air; we’ve been down too long.” Ward turned to her after driving up the ramp and cutting the engine. “You have to be tired; it’s been a long night.” He jumped out of the car and closed the ramp to the aircraft, sealing them in, as Skye took her time climbing out.

He caught her before she could step away from the car, placing a firm hand at her waist. “I’m really happy that you came back.” This wasn’t the dangerous spy that had walked into the diner ninety minutes ago to collect her. This was the desperate man that had pleaded with her the last time they had been together.

“Me too,” she promised him, turning her head up to meet his eyes as she offered a small smile. She could feel the heat of his touch through the shirt she wore, and it was making it difficult to continue thinking straight.

His hand moved from her waist to her cheek, and he caught her lips for a chaste kiss, his lips barely brushing hers. It was over before Skye could even process it, but she was left with a slight tingling on her lips and the smell of _him_ that had always affected her more than she cared to admit. “Sleep well, Skye.”

Skye had never been one to hold to luxuries and comforts in life, but as she stood under the heavy, constant stream of the shower, letting the tiny room fog up quickly before climbing into an old worn t-shirt she loved and tracksuit pants, she had to admit that she’d missed it. Lying down on the bed, the duvet thick and soft, she could feel herself succumbing to sleep. The sounds of the aircraft taking off and reaching altitude didn’t even bother her anymore, comforting white noise as she forgot everything and _slept._

It wasn’t until afterwards, when bleary eyes opened with confusion that she realized that she hadn’t been taunted with visions of a dying Ward. A quick glance at her watch told her that she had managed to sleep through the night uninterrupted, and she let her head rest back into her pillows. _The mission_ ; it came back to her as the fog listed. She couldn’t let herself get distracted from what she wanted. How hard would it be to work her way into the computer system and do digging around? She had hacked her way into plenty other government systems before; she had hacked into SHIELD before. She chose to ignore the voice that reminded her that Ward had once spent sixteen months undercover.

 She needed her laptop back. That was the next thought that went through her mind. A quick glance around the small room confirmed that no one had thought to put her computer away from her, she wasn’t really surprised.

She was surprised though that her door had been locked.

“WARD,” she pounded on the door. “WARD?” She continued pounding, panic starting to seep into her voice. Had he seen through her cover? Were they taking her somewhere to dispose of her? She _really_ needed to stop being so paranoid if she had any chance of success.

What she hadn’t been prepared for when the door opened was Deathlok filling the frame, and instinctively she took a step back; he wasn’t too happy with her last time she had seen him.

“Mike,” she concealed her nerves. “Why’d you lock me in?” She tried to act casual.

“Garrett doesn’t trust you, thinks Ward’s not going to be able to think rationally.”

“That’s absurd. What does he think I’m about to do?”

“He wants you on probation.” Skye hadn’t noticed Mike holding something until he lifted his hand, revealing a slim bracelet she knew well, and had hoped she’d never have to see again. Apparently the demise of SHIELD didn’t mean the demise of their technology.

Fuck.

She briefly considered if there were any arguments that could keep the cursed thing off her wrist, but she needed them all to trust her. Ward? Ward was easy. The rest wouldn’t be. She opened her mouth wordlessly and then begrudgingly held out her arm.

Her plans to search for her laptop now useless, she went in sear of her next priority – caffeine. She found coffee in the small kitchenette, and Ward spending time with the punching bag in the bus’ workout area. His tracksuit pants hung dangerously around his waist, and the white shirt he had apparently been wearing was tossed to the corner of the mat. He still hadn’t shaved, and she could see sweat starting to bead around his temple. It looked like he had been out here for a while.   
“We should get you out here soon. How long has it been since you trained?” His focus was broken as she leaned against the wall.

“What, so I…” _So I can fight my friends? People who trusted you? Or so I can fight you?_ She closed her mouthed again, battling the words that wanted to come out before she gave him a tight lipped smile. “That sounds good.” Fighting him would at least be therapeutic.

He turned back to his punching bag, his face firm and closed off albeit determined working through whatever twisted thought process went through his mind and Skye moved on. What she needed was to come up with a new plan. Her old one had been rushed and optimistic; get in, get onto Ward’s computer, get the hell out. She would be back with her team within a week or so. Now, she could see how flawed that was, and how naïve she could still be. She wandered from room to room, lingering in Fitzsimmons work lab, and carefully avoiding Deathlok before collapsing back on her bed. She was going to have to find something to entertain herself with. She kept a deck of cards around somewhere.

She was in to her third game of solitaire when Ward appeared freshly showered and fully dresses. He leaned against the door frame until she couldn’t take it anymore and looked up.  
“You’re frustrated.” He noticed; she held up her hand with the bracelet.

 “I know,” he broke the barrier between them and sat at the end of her bed. “It’s only temporary. A couple of months tops. Garrett will see.” They fell back into silence, which in the past had always been normal, but the confined space and lingering, loaded conversations and confrontations were now hanging between them. Skye knew they couldn’t be avoided forever, but she would avoid it for as long as possible.

Neither of them knew how to act around the other. As Ward continued to watch Skye play her game, she realized that for all the time they had spent together, the times they had flirted and the small stolen moments they had stolen before…everything, it had been exciting and secret, the presence of Fitzsimmons and Coulson and May always been right around the corner. Now they had all this space, and all this time, and they were stuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After drinking almost an entire bottle of wine to myself, I've decided it's a brilliant time to edit and post this after it's been sitting open for so long. ABC decided to celebrate my birthday with a season renewal and an Agent Carter series pickup, so I've been in a great mood all day long.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything longer than a drabble in over three years, but Skye and Ward are going send me into a slow and painful death with their angst (which I secretly/not-so-secretly live for).


End file.
